Coping Universe I: To Strive (2/4)
Jun. 27th, 2004 07:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
waldos_writingsTo: Sam_n_Josh@yahoogroups.com
From: "Waldo." <waldo@elnet.com>
Subject: [Sam_n_Josh] Coping Universe I: To Strive (2/4)
Coping Universe I: To Strive
By Waldo.
Part 2/4, See Part 0 for notes and disclaimers
Not long after I'd gone back and sat
down, someone from Secret Service came in to
interview me. He introduced himself as Jeff
Ridgeland and showed me into another one of those
little conference rooms, like Leo and I had gone
into when Josh had been taken into surgery.
There was a stenographer and tape recorder at the
table and Jeff pointed me at the chair nearest
the tape recorder. I fell into it with a sigh,
"Mr. Seaborn, I apologize for asking you
to go through this so soon, but as you may have
heard, we have a report of an accomplice on the
ground. We need to get everyone's statements
while their recollections are fresh."
"My name is Sam," I muttered wearily,
ignoring the rest of what he said for the moment.
I never much cared for being called Mr. Seaborn.
It made me look for my dad. Unless it was
someone I didn't like. They could call me Mr.
Seaborn.
"Okay, Sam, we're going to make this as
easy as we can, just answer the questions to the
best of your recollection. Don't worry about
trying to give the answers you think we want or
answers that will match anyone else's. We expect
people to have differing accounts. Let us worry
about sorting them out and putting together a
coherent picture."
"Okay," I whispered.
"What was your first indication there was trouble?"
I thought about it. So much happened at
once. "Um… I guess when I saw Zoey's Secret
Service girl - what's her name again?" I knew
her name, I knew it, but I couldn't seem to
remember it.
"Gina Toscano?"
"Yeah, Gina moved Zoey from one side of
her to the other. She told her to move so I
started looking around to see why she did that.
I thought it would be… a reporter or something.
Zoey's been having a few problems with reporters
bugging her at school. They aren't supposed to
do that." I stopped talking, realizing I was
straying from the subject.
"What did you see when you looked around?"
"Just the crowd." I took a deep breath.
"At first it was just the crowd and then I heard
a shot and someone yelled 'Gun'."
Jeff leaned forward. "You said, 'at
first it was just the crowd.' What else did you
see?"
"Someone yelled 'Gun' and I heard the
first shot. I looked up and saw… in the window,
in… I don't know the name of the building… but I
saw a flash and I just…" I didn't really want to
tell him about pushing C.J. down. What if they
thought I was associated with the shooter? What
if they thought I somehow knew where to look? "I
saw a flash and … I don't know, something about
it spooked the hell out of me, C.J. Cregg was
right there and I…"
"You pushed her down?"
"Yeah, I… I saw the flash, but it
couldn't have been the bullet that shot out the
window over our heads, I mean, no one can move
that fast, right? How many shots were fired?"
He offered me a glass of water and I took a small
sip, shock was setting in again, or something,
because as I mentally replayed my words, I
realized that I was not only not making sense,
but my delivery was getting a little hysterical.
"We've got agents covering the ground
now, looking for shells. We know that four
people were hit -"
"Four?!" I almost choked on the ice water.
"A woman in the crowd was hit in the leg;
she's at another hospital; she's going to be
fine," he reassured me.
"The President, Josh, that girl and who else?"
"Ron Butterfield was on the President.
He took one in the hand. He's in surgery to do
some reconstruction right now."
I nodded. "Anyway, I didn't think, I
just pushed her out of the way. She bumped her
head. Has a doctor seen her? She hit kind of
hard." I knew a paramedic had seen her, but I
wanted to be sure. I could still here the hollow
thump of her skull on the concrete.
"C.J.'s okay Sam. We've already spoken
to her. She's a little mixed up, she doesn't
remember who pushed her down, so we did have a
doctor give her a quick neural exam. They said
that it was probably shock and the bump and a
little temporary amnesia isn't a big surprise.
They think she'll remember when things calm down
and she has a few minutes to think about it."
I nodded. I liked this guy. Josh tries
to do that thing that kids do to the guards at
Buckingham Palace with the Secret Service - get
them to smile, to look away from whatever it is
they're watching. He thinks they all have a pole
surgically implanted up their ass when they get
the job. But I liked this guy. If and when Josh
had to give a statement, I wanted this guy to
take it.
I took a deep breath. "It was very, very
loud and chaotic for… for what seemed like
forever, and then it was… quieter and we seemed
to be trying to pick up the pieces… find
everyone."
"Joel McCallan said you were trying to
round everyone up when the shooting died down.
Can you tell me about that?" Jeff asked.
"Who's Joel McCallan?" I found myself
asking before deciding I really didn't care.
"The agent you stopped to get an update."
"Oh. I should probably pay more
attention to who you guys are. I mean, other
than just 'that secret service guy over there'."
He smiled. "Our job is to not be there,
you know? We don't take it personally."
"Yeah, well, I do. You guys are the ones
who took down the shooters tonight before they
could hit anyone else. Ron took a bullet for the
president. You guys are trained to die for him
and we can't even be bothered to learn your
names. It's not right."
"Well, now you know two of us. Tell me about finding everyone."
I shook my head. "I wish I could say I
was being a take-charge kind of guy, Jeff, I
really do, but what it all came down to was… I
needed to know where my friends were."
"So you started rounding everyone up?"
"Well, sort of… I found out where the
President was, and in the process learned where
Leo and Zoey were. I saw C.J… and then… Toby
found Josh. It wasn't me, it was Toby,"
"You rode in the ambulance with Mr. Lyman?"
"Yeah."
"But before that, you established where everyone was, right?"
"We were all right there at that point."
"Charlie Young?"
"Toby said that he'd seen Charlie before he found Josh."
Jeff smiled a little, "I'm making a
point, did he volunteer the information that he'd
seen Mr. Young, or did you ask him?"
"I asked him."
"Sam, everyone I've spoken with so far
has been pretty impressed with how you handled
things out there. You should be too. You found
out where everyone was, and you accompanied Mr.
Lyman to the hospital. Everything else was our
job. You did yours and then some."
"Thanks," I muttered, not sure I believed him.
"Okay, let's go back to what you saw.
When you looked through the crowd, did you see
anything… unusual?"
"I heard Gina say that she saw a signal
man. And… now I can't tell you if I saw it too,
or if I'm just… imagining I did to feel less…"
"Powerless?" he suggested.
"Yeah."
"Tell me what you think you saw."
"I heard Gina say it was a kid in a
baseball cap. I saw a guy… white guy, cap, and
just… a look I didn't like. But… I don't know.
He had this look, but he wasn't looking at the
President, so I don't think this is your guy."
"Tell me anyway. You don't think he was
looking at the president? Where was he looking?"
"I don't know. Behind the President… at
one of us maybe. Hey, I have question. The guy
in that building, shooting at us… at the
president… He'd have to be a pretty good shot,
right? I mean, would some nearsighted crackpot
with a bee-bee gun really try to shoot the
president from five floors away?" This was
bugging me now. I hadn't thought about it
previously, but now that I was, it was bugging me.
"He was a pretty good shot, yeah."
"So… Josh… Josh got called over to talk
to someone before we left. He was way behind the
rest of us, way, way behind the president. Was
this guy just taking potshots at the crowd or
what?!" I was on my feet and yelling before I
realized it. "Did you see where he was? He was
still on the stairs!"
"We know, Sam," Jeff said calmly,
indicating my chair. "We're working on that.
It's one of the reasons we need the signal guy."
"Right. Sorry." I dropped back into my chair.
"It's okay."
"Sorry," I said again, not sure what else to say.
"It's okay," he said again. "I want you
to take a minute, close your eyes if it helps and
see if there's anything else you saw or heard
that might help us out."
I propped my elbows on the table and
closed my eyes. I played the scene over and over
in my head. It really was quite short. Finally,
I shook my head. "No. I don't think… I can't…"
I felt so useless, so powerless.
"It's alright. In the next few days,
once you've gotten a little distance, a little
sleep, you may come up with something. Let me
know. It doesn't matter if it's after we get
this other guy or not. If you think it could
possibly be important, it probably is. He took
out a business card and scribbled a number on the
back. "That's my voice mail extension, if you
want to talk directly to me."
"Thanks." I stood up and shoved the card
in my pocket, and felt C.J.'s chain again. "Hey
Jeff," I said suddenly. "C.J. doesn't know it
was me?"
"She didn't when she was in here."
"If you don't have to… don't tell her,
okay?" I moved C.J.'s chain from my pants pocket
to my shirt pocket hoping it wouldn't get too
tangled. I'd drop it on her desk or mail it to
her or something…
"Okay," he said as I left.
Once our spontaneous weekends had started
to fade away to once in a very great while, Josh
and I made it a point to get together at least
once or twice a year. One of those trips was
supposed to be a skiing trip in Utah. We got
there, got checked in and one of the worst
blizzards of the decade hit. The first night we
got really drunk in the lodge bar, laughing about
how there was too much snow to ski. The next
morning, we decided that we'd be a little calmer
that night. Neither of us were remarkable
partygoers, and I have, on occasion, been called
a lightweight.
So we were snowed in on a ski trip and
what probably turned out to be way too sober that
night. We'd gotten a double room, since we
really hadn't planned to be in it much, but with
the bar being out, we didn't have a whole lot of
other places to go. Josh started a fire and we
stretched out in front of it with some music on.
I thought we'd fall asleep, but he
started telling me about getting to Washington
and the job his dad got him through some
secretary of something to work for some Senator
from somewhere. I knew I should have been more
interested, but I was just too relaxed. I let
the heat of the fire dance over me and the sound
of Josh's voice wash over me. It didn't really
matter what he was saying at that point, just
that we were together for him to say it to me.
He stopped suddenly, asking me if I was listening.
"Sure. Only one third of the House is
expected to vote for a bill legislating federally
mandated drug tests and physicals for…" Oops.
That's where my memory bottomed out for me.
"OTR Drivers," he filled in for me. "You okay?"
"I was listening, really. I'm sorry.
I'm just… I'm tired and I'm comfortable and my
mind keeps wandering off."
"To where?" he asked softly.
"You really want to know?"
"Sure"
"Just so you know… I don't expect you to
do anything about this, but…" I had to take a
deep breath. I figured I was out of my mind for
telling him this, but we'd been friends for a
long time. Close enough that I knew he wouldn't
flip out on me or be angry. The flip side was, I
knew him well enough to know that there probably
wouldn't be any kind of positive reaction either.
"I think I'm in love with you."
Josh just blinked for a minute. "Ah. Okay."
I sat up and looked at him. "That's all?"
"Well, I almost asked if you were sure,
but you never struck me at the type to make
statements like that unless you were sure," he
told me.
"I've thought about it for a long time, I'm pretty sure."
"Okay," he said again, like I'd told him
that I was dying my hair blond. The tone of
"Well, okay. I don't know quite why you want to
do that, but whatever."
We were silent for a long time. I didn't
know what I was hoping for in telling him that.
I knew he wouldn't be mad at me, but I really
didn't know what I hoped to gain. I was sure I'd
made him uncomfortable. "Look, I'm sorry I said
anything. I didn't mean to make things awkward
for you. I don't expect anything."
Josh scooted closer to me and put a hand
on my back. "It's okay. Really. I'm flattered.
But I think Lisa would kick my ass."
I smiled when he did and everything went back to normal.
Nothing really changed in light of my
revelation. We still kept up with each other,
got together when we could, but by the time I was
out of school and working for Gage Whitney, it
was pretty tough to plan get-togethers. I never
knew when a case would settle and he never knew
when the Senator would take time off and he'd be
able to get away. Then his dad was diagnosed
with lung cancer and all his free time was spent
going home. Our emails went from almost daily to
maybe weekly, but I never once thought he was
pulling back from me because of what I'd told him.
Then, just as I was moving through the
ranks at Gage Whitney, when I'd gotten engaged to
Lisa, when I was pretty certain what direction my
life was heading in, he showed up, dripping wet,
bouncing and beaming and dragging me away from it
to New Hampshire over what we hoped was the best
thing that could ever happen to us.
It was almost two o'clock in the morning,
back in Manchester when the final poles had
closed on the West Coast, when things had been
tallied and counted and sealed that they called
the election for Jed Bartlet.
The champagne flowed immediately, but I
only had a little, since Toby and I had to refine
the president-elect's victory remarks before we
could really start celebrating. After Illinois I
started keeping an eye on Josh when the victory
parties broke out. I wondered if he'd always
associate them with finding out his dad had died,
and I wanted to be sure he was okay. That
November night he seemed just fine as he danced -
badly - with Donna and Margaret in the corner.
I didn't think he'd been drinking, but
then again, Josh has always had the ability to
get high on life when things are going well, so I
wasn't unduly surprised when he grabbed me and
danced me around the room. I let him get away
with the goofiness for a minute before pulling
away to go in the other room and tighten up the
speech with Toby.
When I got into the hall, I leaned
against the wall for a minute and calmed myself
down. We'd done it. We were on our way to
Washington. Josh and I. Life was good.
Then Josh came out looking for me.
"Where're ya goin'?"
"I have to go tighten up the victory
speech with Toby." I pointed down the hall.
"Oh, okay."
I started walking away.
"Hey, Sam!"
I turned back, smiling at him.
"Remember what you said to me in Utah?"
I actually had to think for a minute. "Yeah."
Josh's smile turned from one of energy
and excitement to something softer. "Me too."
I felt sucker punched. I found a smile
for him somewhere. "Um. Okay," I said, using
the answer he gave me. "I need to go… work on
the thing…"
Josh bounced back into the party
shouting, "Okay, see you later," as he went.
I avoided Josh for a few days after that.
As excited as I was about going to Washington,
about going with him, I couldn't look at him.
Finally, one gray morning not long before we were
going to pack up the Manchester campaign office
and go home to pack up our various apartments,
Josh caught me in the coffee shop of the hotel.
"Come on," he said nodding at the door.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know yet, come on."
I tossed a couple bucks on the table for
my coffee and followed him. He led me back to
the elevator bank and back up to his hotel room.
"Josh, what are you doing?"
"Finding out why you're mad at me for what I told you election night."
"I'm not mad," I said quietly. I didn't
want to talk about this. It was tough enough
living with it.
"So how come you aren't talking to me?"
"I'm not mad," I reiterated.
"So…"
Okay, now I was mad. I wasn't sure why,
but Josh pushing the issue pissed me off. "Why
did you say that?"
"What? That I love you? Um… maybe because I do?"
"Do you? I mean, now? Really? Or were
you just caught up in everything that was
happening that night? I mean, it's okay. If you
want to … take it back, that's okay. I can
understand getting caught up in all the
excitement and … I don't know… just saying stuff."
"But Sam," he pushed his hand over his
hair. "I do mean it. Are you saying you don't
feel that way any more?"
"Why now?" I said with as little venom as I could muster.
"What do you mean?"
"Why now, Josh? Why did you pick the one
night that will redefine how we live our lives to
tell me that? We've been promised top White
House positions in this administration and that
means…" I took a deep breath. I didn't want to
argue. I wanted to understand, but now I was
angry and having a hard time being articulate.
"Why wait until there's absolutely nothing we can
do about it to tell me that? Do you feel sorry
for me? Did you think it was an… easy out? Tell
me what I want to hear when there's absolutely no
way for it to mean anything... hoping that I'll…
I don't know what… be mollified? Why now?"
Josh sat on the edge of the bed looking
pale all of a sudden. "I didn't mean to do that
to you. I'm sorry. I wasn't… I wasn't thinking
about it that way." He opened his mouth like he
had more to say, but nothing came out so he just
shut it again.
I didn't know what to say either. It
seemed absurd that we were mad at each other
because we loved each other.
"It wasn't a sudden revelation. I've
been thinking about what you said since the night
you said it. But, really Sam, I honestly thought
you were in love with Lisa too and that would be…
so much simpler for you. And back then I didn't
know how I felt about it. I knew I liked you. A
lot. But I'd never thought about it any further
than that. It just… I didn't… I wasn't going to
say things I didn't mean. I knew that you
wouldn't be happy about me going 'okay whatever',
but I knew you'd hate me if I said something I
wasn't sure of and then had to back out of it. I
couldn't stand that. I had to know how I felt
first."
"And you decided last Tuesday?"
"No, actually, I'd decided a few months
back. My mom actually got me thinking about it
some more when I went out for my dad's funeral.
She asked me if I was lonely out here on the
road. I told her that I had you. She's been
hearing your name off and on for what? Nine
years now? So she was happy for me and let it
drop, but I started thinking about it. I didn't
hesitate to answer her. I wasn't lonely out here
because you were here. And then when I thought
about going to Washington… about working for the
president, that was cool. But then when I
thought about working for the president with you
I got light headed. I tried to think about what
could be better and I couldn't come up with
anything. So… I tried, in my terribly inept way,
to tell you how I felt. I guess I should have
given you the long version from the outset."
I smiled at him. He did mean it. I may
be the speechwriter, but Josh is eloquent in his
own way. When he decides to be honest, to be
passionate, there's an elegance in his
simplicity. He isn't always looking for the most
cosmetic way to say something. He just wants to
be sure he's understood. Nothing fancy. Just
the truth.
"I still love you, Josh, but…"
"Yeah."
I hated the way his face fell then. "People are
going to start looking for things to hang us with
as soon as our names hit the papers." I hated
myself for being the one to say it. "We can't…
we just… it's not fair to the Governor -
President," I corrected myself.
"I know. But you know what… so we can't make out
on the mall, or hold hands in the office, or
whatever, but we can still love each other.
We've known each other a long time, Sam, it's
never been about sex for us. You're… special…
important to me. That's enough for now. We've
got four years - eight if we're lucky - of sheer
hell in front of us. We probably don't want to
try and juggle anything romantic while we're
working eighty-hour weeks anyway. But if you
need anything, anything, Sam, you can count on
me. You know I'll be there, even when we
disagree on policy or whatever, I'll be there for
you. Because I care. And if people want to get
in our faces because we care about each other…
bring 'em on."
I smiled and turned to him, not sure how to
answer that. It was the best we could hope for.
And he had a very good point about how we'd
probably never survive a relationship while
Bartlet was in office. Better to put it on hold.
It warmed me through and through that he was
saying he'd be there waiting for me on the other
side of this administration.
"Come here," he whispered. He put out a hand and
I took it. The depression that had set in with
both the end of the adreneline rush from the
campaign ending and Josh's little drop-in on
election night lifted almost completely away as
he pulled me in for a tight, warm, hug.
He tightened his arms around me and put a very
chaste kiss on the top of my head. "I love you.
And that's enough for now. It's going to be
crazy for the next few years. But when it's
over… I'll be here."
"Me too." It was such a lame answer after all
the confessions he'd made, all of his simple
eloquence, but it was all I could come up with.
And it worked. We talked a few days later about
putting on a good face for the administration.
Which meant dating. Women. We knew we'd have to
do it and we promised not to deprive ourselves of
companionship just because we couldn't be
together in the way we wanted to. We'd date.
And we'd give each other hell about it. And we'd
talk about it to each other. And when we could
talk about it somewhere private we'd always end
the conversation with "I love you." We'd do what
we could until we could do what we wanted, but we
never lost sight of the goal.
_________________
End Part 2, To Strive
Continued in Part 3
From: "Waldo." <waldo@elnet.com>
Subject: [Sam_n_Josh] Coping Universe I: To Strive (2/4)
Coping Universe I: To Strive
By Waldo.
Part 2/4, See Part 0 for notes and disclaimers
Not long after I'd gone back and sat
down, someone from Secret Service came in to
interview me. He introduced himself as Jeff
Ridgeland and showed me into another one of those
little conference rooms, like Leo and I had gone
into when Josh had been taken into surgery.
There was a stenographer and tape recorder at the
table and Jeff pointed me at the chair nearest
the tape recorder. I fell into it with a sigh,
"Mr. Seaborn, I apologize for asking you
to go through this so soon, but as you may have
heard, we have a report of an accomplice on the
ground. We need to get everyone's statements
while their recollections are fresh."
"My name is Sam," I muttered wearily,
ignoring the rest of what he said for the moment.
I never much cared for being called Mr. Seaborn.
It made me look for my dad. Unless it was
someone I didn't like. They could call me Mr.
Seaborn.
"Okay, Sam, we're going to make this as
easy as we can, just answer the questions to the
best of your recollection. Don't worry about
trying to give the answers you think we want or
answers that will match anyone else's. We expect
people to have differing accounts. Let us worry
about sorting them out and putting together a
coherent picture."
"Okay," I whispered.
"What was your first indication there was trouble?"
I thought about it. So much happened at
once. "Um… I guess when I saw Zoey's Secret
Service girl - what's her name again?" I knew
her name, I knew it, but I couldn't seem to
remember it.
"Gina Toscano?"
"Yeah, Gina moved Zoey from one side of
her to the other. She told her to move so I
started looking around to see why she did that.
I thought it would be… a reporter or something.
Zoey's been having a few problems with reporters
bugging her at school. They aren't supposed to
do that." I stopped talking, realizing I was
straying from the subject.
"What did you see when you looked around?"
"Just the crowd." I took a deep breath.
"At first it was just the crowd and then I heard
a shot and someone yelled 'Gun'."
Jeff leaned forward. "You said, 'at
first it was just the crowd.' What else did you
see?"
"Someone yelled 'Gun' and I heard the
first shot. I looked up and saw… in the window,
in… I don't know the name of the building… but I
saw a flash and I just…" I didn't really want to
tell him about pushing C.J. down. What if they
thought I was associated with the shooter? What
if they thought I somehow knew where to look? "I
saw a flash and … I don't know, something about
it spooked the hell out of me, C.J. Cregg was
right there and I…"
"You pushed her down?"
"Yeah, I… I saw the flash, but it
couldn't have been the bullet that shot out the
window over our heads, I mean, no one can move
that fast, right? How many shots were fired?"
He offered me a glass of water and I took a small
sip, shock was setting in again, or something,
because as I mentally replayed my words, I
realized that I was not only not making sense,
but my delivery was getting a little hysterical.
"We've got agents covering the ground
now, looking for shells. We know that four
people were hit -"
"Four?!" I almost choked on the ice water.
"A woman in the crowd was hit in the leg;
she's at another hospital; she's going to be
fine," he reassured me.
"The President, Josh, that girl and who else?"
"Ron Butterfield was on the President.
He took one in the hand. He's in surgery to do
some reconstruction right now."
I nodded. "Anyway, I didn't think, I
just pushed her out of the way. She bumped her
head. Has a doctor seen her? She hit kind of
hard." I knew a paramedic had seen her, but I
wanted to be sure. I could still here the hollow
thump of her skull on the concrete.
"C.J.'s okay Sam. We've already spoken
to her. She's a little mixed up, she doesn't
remember who pushed her down, so we did have a
doctor give her a quick neural exam. They said
that it was probably shock and the bump and a
little temporary amnesia isn't a big surprise.
They think she'll remember when things calm down
and she has a few minutes to think about it."
I nodded. I liked this guy. Josh tries
to do that thing that kids do to the guards at
Buckingham Palace with the Secret Service - get
them to smile, to look away from whatever it is
they're watching. He thinks they all have a pole
surgically implanted up their ass when they get
the job. But I liked this guy. If and when Josh
had to give a statement, I wanted this guy to
take it.
I took a deep breath. "It was very, very
loud and chaotic for… for what seemed like
forever, and then it was… quieter and we seemed
to be trying to pick up the pieces… find
everyone."
"Joel McCallan said you were trying to
round everyone up when the shooting died down.
Can you tell me about that?" Jeff asked.
"Who's Joel McCallan?" I found myself
asking before deciding I really didn't care.
"The agent you stopped to get an update."
"Oh. I should probably pay more
attention to who you guys are. I mean, other
than just 'that secret service guy over there'."
He smiled. "Our job is to not be there,
you know? We don't take it personally."
"Yeah, well, I do. You guys are the ones
who took down the shooters tonight before they
could hit anyone else. Ron took a bullet for the
president. You guys are trained to die for him
and we can't even be bothered to learn your
names. It's not right."
"Well, now you know two of us. Tell me about finding everyone."
I shook my head. "I wish I could say I
was being a take-charge kind of guy, Jeff, I
really do, but what it all came down to was… I
needed to know where my friends were."
"So you started rounding everyone up?"
"Well, sort of… I found out where the
President was, and in the process learned where
Leo and Zoey were. I saw C.J… and then… Toby
found Josh. It wasn't me, it was Toby,"
"You rode in the ambulance with Mr. Lyman?"
"Yeah."
"But before that, you established where everyone was, right?"
"We were all right there at that point."
"Charlie Young?"
"Toby said that he'd seen Charlie before he found Josh."
Jeff smiled a little, "I'm making a
point, did he volunteer the information that he'd
seen Mr. Young, or did you ask him?"
"I asked him."
"Sam, everyone I've spoken with so far
has been pretty impressed with how you handled
things out there. You should be too. You found
out where everyone was, and you accompanied Mr.
Lyman to the hospital. Everything else was our
job. You did yours and then some."
"Thanks," I muttered, not sure I believed him.
"Okay, let's go back to what you saw.
When you looked through the crowd, did you see
anything… unusual?"
"I heard Gina say that she saw a signal
man. And… now I can't tell you if I saw it too,
or if I'm just… imagining I did to feel less…"
"Powerless?" he suggested.
"Yeah."
"Tell me what you think you saw."
"I heard Gina say it was a kid in a
baseball cap. I saw a guy… white guy, cap, and
just… a look I didn't like. But… I don't know.
He had this look, but he wasn't looking at the
President, so I don't think this is your guy."
"Tell me anyway. You don't think he was
looking at the president? Where was he looking?"
"I don't know. Behind the President… at
one of us maybe. Hey, I have question. The guy
in that building, shooting at us… at the
president… He'd have to be a pretty good shot,
right? I mean, would some nearsighted crackpot
with a bee-bee gun really try to shoot the
president from five floors away?" This was
bugging me now. I hadn't thought about it
previously, but now that I was, it was bugging me.
"He was a pretty good shot, yeah."
"So… Josh… Josh got called over to talk
to someone before we left. He was way behind the
rest of us, way, way behind the president. Was
this guy just taking potshots at the crowd or
what?!" I was on my feet and yelling before I
realized it. "Did you see where he was? He was
still on the stairs!"
"We know, Sam," Jeff said calmly,
indicating my chair. "We're working on that.
It's one of the reasons we need the signal guy."
"Right. Sorry." I dropped back into my chair.
"It's okay."
"Sorry," I said again, not sure what else to say.
"It's okay," he said again. "I want you
to take a minute, close your eyes if it helps and
see if there's anything else you saw or heard
that might help us out."
I propped my elbows on the table and
closed my eyes. I played the scene over and over
in my head. It really was quite short. Finally,
I shook my head. "No. I don't think… I can't…"
I felt so useless, so powerless.
"It's alright. In the next few days,
once you've gotten a little distance, a little
sleep, you may come up with something. Let me
know. It doesn't matter if it's after we get
this other guy or not. If you think it could
possibly be important, it probably is. He took
out a business card and scribbled a number on the
back. "That's my voice mail extension, if you
want to talk directly to me."
"Thanks." I stood up and shoved the card
in my pocket, and felt C.J.'s chain again. "Hey
Jeff," I said suddenly. "C.J. doesn't know it
was me?"
"She didn't when she was in here."
"If you don't have to… don't tell her,
okay?" I moved C.J.'s chain from my pants pocket
to my shirt pocket hoping it wouldn't get too
tangled. I'd drop it on her desk or mail it to
her or something…
"Okay," he said as I left.
Once our spontaneous weekends had started
to fade away to once in a very great while, Josh
and I made it a point to get together at least
once or twice a year. One of those trips was
supposed to be a skiing trip in Utah. We got
there, got checked in and one of the worst
blizzards of the decade hit. The first night we
got really drunk in the lodge bar, laughing about
how there was too much snow to ski. The next
morning, we decided that we'd be a little calmer
that night. Neither of us were remarkable
partygoers, and I have, on occasion, been called
a lightweight.
So we were snowed in on a ski trip and
what probably turned out to be way too sober that
night. We'd gotten a double room, since we
really hadn't planned to be in it much, but with
the bar being out, we didn't have a whole lot of
other places to go. Josh started a fire and we
stretched out in front of it with some music on.
I thought we'd fall asleep, but he
started telling me about getting to Washington
and the job his dad got him through some
secretary of something to work for some Senator
from somewhere. I knew I should have been more
interested, but I was just too relaxed. I let
the heat of the fire dance over me and the sound
of Josh's voice wash over me. It didn't really
matter what he was saying at that point, just
that we were together for him to say it to me.
He stopped suddenly, asking me if I was listening.
"Sure. Only one third of the House is
expected to vote for a bill legislating federally
mandated drug tests and physicals for…" Oops.
That's where my memory bottomed out for me.
"OTR Drivers," he filled in for me. "You okay?"
"I was listening, really. I'm sorry.
I'm just… I'm tired and I'm comfortable and my
mind keeps wandering off."
"To where?" he asked softly.
"You really want to know?"
"Sure"
"Just so you know… I don't expect you to
do anything about this, but…" I had to take a
deep breath. I figured I was out of my mind for
telling him this, but we'd been friends for a
long time. Close enough that I knew he wouldn't
flip out on me or be angry. The flip side was, I
knew him well enough to know that there probably
wouldn't be any kind of positive reaction either.
"I think I'm in love with you."
Josh just blinked for a minute. "Ah. Okay."
I sat up and looked at him. "That's all?"
"Well, I almost asked if you were sure,
but you never struck me at the type to make
statements like that unless you were sure," he
told me.
"I've thought about it for a long time, I'm pretty sure."
"Okay," he said again, like I'd told him
that I was dying my hair blond. The tone of
"Well, okay. I don't know quite why you want to
do that, but whatever."
We were silent for a long time. I didn't
know what I was hoping for in telling him that.
I knew he wouldn't be mad at me, but I really
didn't know what I hoped to gain. I was sure I'd
made him uncomfortable. "Look, I'm sorry I said
anything. I didn't mean to make things awkward
for you. I don't expect anything."
Josh scooted closer to me and put a hand
on my back. "It's okay. Really. I'm flattered.
But I think Lisa would kick my ass."
I smiled when he did and everything went back to normal.
Nothing really changed in light of my
revelation. We still kept up with each other,
got together when we could, but by the time I was
out of school and working for Gage Whitney, it
was pretty tough to plan get-togethers. I never
knew when a case would settle and he never knew
when the Senator would take time off and he'd be
able to get away. Then his dad was diagnosed
with lung cancer and all his free time was spent
going home. Our emails went from almost daily to
maybe weekly, but I never once thought he was
pulling back from me because of what I'd told him.
Then, just as I was moving through the
ranks at Gage Whitney, when I'd gotten engaged to
Lisa, when I was pretty certain what direction my
life was heading in, he showed up, dripping wet,
bouncing and beaming and dragging me away from it
to New Hampshire over what we hoped was the best
thing that could ever happen to us.
It was almost two o'clock in the morning,
back in Manchester when the final poles had
closed on the West Coast, when things had been
tallied and counted and sealed that they called
the election for Jed Bartlet.
The champagne flowed immediately, but I
only had a little, since Toby and I had to refine
the president-elect's victory remarks before we
could really start celebrating. After Illinois I
started keeping an eye on Josh when the victory
parties broke out. I wondered if he'd always
associate them with finding out his dad had died,
and I wanted to be sure he was okay. That
November night he seemed just fine as he danced -
badly - with Donna and Margaret in the corner.
I didn't think he'd been drinking, but
then again, Josh has always had the ability to
get high on life when things are going well, so I
wasn't unduly surprised when he grabbed me and
danced me around the room. I let him get away
with the goofiness for a minute before pulling
away to go in the other room and tighten up the
speech with Toby.
When I got into the hall, I leaned
against the wall for a minute and calmed myself
down. We'd done it. We were on our way to
Washington. Josh and I. Life was good.
Then Josh came out looking for me.
"Where're ya goin'?"
"I have to go tighten up the victory
speech with Toby." I pointed down the hall.
"Oh, okay."
I started walking away.
"Hey, Sam!"
I turned back, smiling at him.
"Remember what you said to me in Utah?"
I actually had to think for a minute. "Yeah."
Josh's smile turned from one of energy
and excitement to something softer. "Me too."
I felt sucker punched. I found a smile
for him somewhere. "Um. Okay," I said, using
the answer he gave me. "I need to go… work on
the thing…"
Josh bounced back into the party
shouting, "Okay, see you later," as he went.
I avoided Josh for a few days after that.
As excited as I was about going to Washington,
about going with him, I couldn't look at him.
Finally, one gray morning not long before we were
going to pack up the Manchester campaign office
and go home to pack up our various apartments,
Josh caught me in the coffee shop of the hotel.
"Come on," he said nodding at the door.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know yet, come on."
I tossed a couple bucks on the table for
my coffee and followed him. He led me back to
the elevator bank and back up to his hotel room.
"Josh, what are you doing?"
"Finding out why you're mad at me for what I told you election night."
"I'm not mad," I said quietly. I didn't
want to talk about this. It was tough enough
living with it.
"So how come you aren't talking to me?"
"I'm not mad," I reiterated.
"So…"
Okay, now I was mad. I wasn't sure why,
but Josh pushing the issue pissed me off. "Why
did you say that?"
"What? That I love you? Um… maybe because I do?"
"Do you? I mean, now? Really? Or were
you just caught up in everything that was
happening that night? I mean, it's okay. If you
want to … take it back, that's okay. I can
understand getting caught up in all the
excitement and … I don't know… just saying stuff."
"But Sam," he pushed his hand over his
hair. "I do mean it. Are you saying you don't
feel that way any more?"
"Why now?" I said with as little venom as I could muster.
"What do you mean?"
"Why now, Josh? Why did you pick the one
night that will redefine how we live our lives to
tell me that? We've been promised top White
House positions in this administration and that
means…" I took a deep breath. I didn't want to
argue. I wanted to understand, but now I was
angry and having a hard time being articulate.
"Why wait until there's absolutely nothing we can
do about it to tell me that? Do you feel sorry
for me? Did you think it was an… easy out? Tell
me what I want to hear when there's absolutely no
way for it to mean anything... hoping that I'll…
I don't know what… be mollified? Why now?"
Josh sat on the edge of the bed looking
pale all of a sudden. "I didn't mean to do that
to you. I'm sorry. I wasn't… I wasn't thinking
about it that way." He opened his mouth like he
had more to say, but nothing came out so he just
shut it again.
I didn't know what to say either. It
seemed absurd that we were mad at each other
because we loved each other.
"It wasn't a sudden revelation. I've
been thinking about what you said since the night
you said it. But, really Sam, I honestly thought
you were in love with Lisa too and that would be…
so much simpler for you. And back then I didn't
know how I felt about it. I knew I liked you. A
lot. But I'd never thought about it any further
than that. It just… I didn't… I wasn't going to
say things I didn't mean. I knew that you
wouldn't be happy about me going 'okay whatever',
but I knew you'd hate me if I said something I
wasn't sure of and then had to back out of it. I
couldn't stand that. I had to know how I felt
first."
"And you decided last Tuesday?"
"No, actually, I'd decided a few months
back. My mom actually got me thinking about it
some more when I went out for my dad's funeral.
She asked me if I was lonely out here on the
road. I told her that I had you. She's been
hearing your name off and on for what? Nine
years now? So she was happy for me and let it
drop, but I started thinking about it. I didn't
hesitate to answer her. I wasn't lonely out here
because you were here. And then when I thought
about going to Washington… about working for the
president, that was cool. But then when I
thought about working for the president with you
I got light headed. I tried to think about what
could be better and I couldn't come up with
anything. So… I tried, in my terribly inept way,
to tell you how I felt. I guess I should have
given you the long version from the outset."
I smiled at him. He did mean it. I may
be the speechwriter, but Josh is eloquent in his
own way. When he decides to be honest, to be
passionate, there's an elegance in his
simplicity. He isn't always looking for the most
cosmetic way to say something. He just wants to
be sure he's understood. Nothing fancy. Just
the truth.
"I still love you, Josh, but…"
"Yeah."
I hated the way his face fell then. "People are
going to start looking for things to hang us with
as soon as our names hit the papers." I hated
myself for being the one to say it. "We can't…
we just… it's not fair to the Governor -
President," I corrected myself.
"I know. But you know what… so we can't make out
on the mall, or hold hands in the office, or
whatever, but we can still love each other.
We've known each other a long time, Sam, it's
never been about sex for us. You're… special…
important to me. That's enough for now. We've
got four years - eight if we're lucky - of sheer
hell in front of us. We probably don't want to
try and juggle anything romantic while we're
working eighty-hour weeks anyway. But if you
need anything, anything, Sam, you can count on
me. You know I'll be there, even when we
disagree on policy or whatever, I'll be there for
you. Because I care. And if people want to get
in our faces because we care about each other…
bring 'em on."
I smiled and turned to him, not sure how to
answer that. It was the best we could hope for.
And he had a very good point about how we'd
probably never survive a relationship while
Bartlet was in office. Better to put it on hold.
It warmed me through and through that he was
saying he'd be there waiting for me on the other
side of this administration.
"Come here," he whispered. He put out a hand and
I took it. The depression that had set in with
both the end of the adreneline rush from the
campaign ending and Josh's little drop-in on
election night lifted almost completely away as
he pulled me in for a tight, warm, hug.
He tightened his arms around me and put a very
chaste kiss on the top of my head. "I love you.
And that's enough for now. It's going to be
crazy for the next few years. But when it's
over… I'll be here."
"Me too." It was such a lame answer after all
the confessions he'd made, all of his simple
eloquence, but it was all I could come up with.
And it worked. We talked a few days later about
putting on a good face for the administration.
Which meant dating. Women. We knew we'd have to
do it and we promised not to deprive ourselves of
companionship just because we couldn't be
together in the way we wanted to. We'd date.
And we'd give each other hell about it. And we'd
talk about it to each other. And when we could
talk about it somewhere private we'd always end
the conversation with "I love you." We'd do what
we could until we could do what we wanted, but we
never lost sight of the goal.
_________________
End Part 2, To Strive
Continued in Part 3
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-06-28 01:01 am (UTC)[blush]
Date: 2004-06-28 01:10 am (UTC)I wanted to do a subplot like that for a long time. It always amazed me in slash how when one of the guys got up the nerve to say that he loved the other one that the other one ALWAYS went, "Really? Me too!" Usually followed by one of them saying "Let's fuck!"
Whenever I see a trend in fic, I get this burning desire to do one that absolutely doesn't fit that mold. In real life people don't always fall in love that the same time. And sometimes love is inconvienent and you can't have the 'happily ever after' right now. (That's what the other three stories in the series are for. :)
Thanks so much for reading this and sending such prompt feedback. You rock. :)
Waldo.